


Que Pasa Culata (de Azucar)?

by Fiercest



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Inspired by a scrubs episode, Jake learns spanish, married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 12:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6052047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiercest/pseuds/Fiercest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake learns Spanish and does not immediately tell Amy.</p><p>"Congratulations. It only took you 10 years to learn the language your partner speaks."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Que Pasa Culata (de Azucar)?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you MusicOfYourSoul for your amazing translations!

Amy is the kind of girl who went to college despite knowing she would be pursuing a career in law enforcement. She loved to learn; so, not only did she graduate summa cum laude but she double majored in Art History and Classics. On top of English, Spanish and a smattering of textbook-perfect french, Amy could read and write in greek, latin and hebrew.

It was sort of embarrassing.

Yesterday, he couldn’t figure how to fix the remote for his television so he ended up watching the Young and the Restless for four hours on his day off.

Amy and Jake put forth equal amounts of effort in very different ways, towards very different things. Besides their work itself.

Amy absorbs information like a sponge before wringing it out into the appropriate, color coded and labelled buckets in her head. She remembers literally everything ever and is thus great at crosswords and jeopardy.

Jake absorbs what’s immediately useful and discards the rest.

Every aspect of Amy’s life, besides self-care and emotions, is all-gung-ho all the time.

Jake puts his effort into jokes, into making his life full of zest, n’stuff. He will go to heretofore unheard of lengths for the sheer enjoyment of making others laugh.

Jake would never say this about himself, because he operates based on the idea that he flies by the seat of his pants at all times, and stumbles into everything based on a combination of sheer dumb luck and awesomeness of self.

On a Wednesday, for the first time, (well, not the first time. He probably put some effort into studying for the detectives exam or something. Or passing high school math. There’s got to have been something right?) Jake decides that he should take a page out of his weirdo wife’s book.

Much later, far off down the line he’ll say it was frustration that drove him to this point. That he was tired of sitting alone in a sea of confusion when they visit her family. That his sheer inability to follow the stories of her guilty pleasure telenovella was so insurmountably annoying that he just _had_ to act.

Really it was just a series of amazing, wonderful, Amy-Santiago-Specialty presents. First it’s Hannukah, Then christmas, then his birthday, then Valentines and NO ONE is as pro as his wife at blowing his damn mind, four subsequent gift-giving holidays in a row. He cried at his birthday surprise. Tell no one.

 

* * *

 

 _Six months later_ …

Amy bites her lip and frantically looks around the precinct, ensuring the absence of prying eyes. She very suavely and inconspicuously gets up from her desk and strolls over to Rosa’s area.

 _“What_.” It is not a question, but an icy hiss.

When Amy, who isnt usually cowed that easily, doesn’t speak up, Rosa looks up at her through narrow, calculating eyes. She must see something in her expression because she lets out an immense sigh and turns in her swivel chair. “What do you need?”

Amy opens her mouth.

And closes it.

Opens.

Closes.

Opens.

Rosa’s fingers under her chin bring her teeth together with a snap.

“Forget it,” she says nervously, “I’m being stupid. So stupid.”

“Probably!” Gina, who is across the room and not a part of this conversation, chimes in.

“Forget I said anything.” Amy makes to leave, face contorted in a painful wince. Rosa stares into her soul. Oh look at that. She’s grown roots. “Fine,” she sighs, “I need you to come help me stakeout a house.”

Rosa looks skeptical. “It’s a saturday.”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

“Where is this place?”

“East 47th and Claremont.”

“And you’re being weird about this because…”

Amy leans closer and whispers. “I think… I think Jake’s cheating on me.”

“HA!” Gina shouts loudly from where she has suddenly appeared right beside her ear. “That boy couldn’t, wouldn’t and probably shouldn’t be trolling for booty. He’s getting old, it’s kind of sad.”

“You’re the same age.”

“I am an ageless being made of pure light, descended from the heavens to grace you mere mortals with my presence.” She glances at her manicure, “So what are we waiting for? Are we going out on this stakeout or not?”

“No,” says Rosa flatly.

“Whyyyyyy,” Gina whines.

“Because Jake is not cheating on Amy. This is stupid.” 

“But what if he is,” Amy pleads with her, “He’s been being weird. And he goes out every saturday. He says he has a pickup game with academy buddies. _He doesn’t have academy buddies._ ”

“That’s true,” Gina injects.

“You’re not helping,” spits Rosa, “Don’t legitimize her craziness.”

“Well, he’s also been hitting the gym more, but that’s none of my business.”

“Gina!”

“Please Rosa?” Amy’s eyes shine and her lips puff up in a pout, but what gets Rosa is the furrow of her brow and the very real worry she sees in her face. 

“For the record, this is dumb.”

Gina and Amy take this as concession.

 

* * *

 

Rosa drives, Gina rides shotgun and Amy sits in the back. Together they watch the utilitarian brownstone. After an hour of inactivity the door opens and Jake bounds down the steps. He stops at the bottom and turns to wave at the woman in the doorway.

She can’t be more than 25. Her hair is long and black, bangs curl against her caramel cheek. It dimples when she smiles.

“ _Goddamnit!”_ Amy shouts and slumps forward, head between her knees.

“Man. That boy has a type.”

 “ _This is just great.”_

“I will kill him for you,” offers Rosa.

“It doesn’t _have_ to mean that right?” Amy seems to have chickened out of her own paranoia. “He could be here for any reason.”

“Sure he could,” says Gina, awkwardly patting her head. Amy lets out a breath and calms at the gesture. “But let’s be honest, probably not.”

Rosa hits her in the stomach.

“ _Ow,”_ she grits pointedly.

“Come on, let’s head back to the precinct.”

 

* * *

Rosa does her very best to calm Amy down. (“Calm down,” she says.) And she doesn’t tell her this, but she runs the address through the database.

* * *

 

That night, Jake snuggles into her back and snuffles her hair. His warm hand caresses her arm and she feels so good, so safe. It makes her wonder how she could ever doubt him, when they fit together like this. He rubs his stubbly chin against her neck and settles in for the night.

And Amy just can’t let it go.

“Are we okay?” she asks breathlessly.

Jake is silent for a moment before he snorts. “Well, I should hope we’re better than okay at this point. We’ve been practicing for like four years.”

Amy turns in his embrace so they’re chest to chest. She’s so close that his eyes merge into one blurry one. He looks like a cyclops. She shakes her head free of the distraction. “I’m serious. Are we okay? Are you happy?”

Jake is taken aback and sounds afraid when he answers. “Why do you ask?” 

She’s about to bring up her fears and feelings, she really is about to tell him the truth. But she imagines his reaction when she tells him she followed him. She imagines what he would say.

She chickens out.

The truth is, Amy is too scared to know. The truth is that Amy is so incandescently happy with her life that she’s willing to lie to herself a little. Maybe a lot. That frightens her, but not as much as the prospect of losing him to some young hot latina because _seriously Jake? You are so transparent._

“I’m just… checking in. You know, like an audit. A relationship audit.”

“Why am I attracted to you again?” Her face burns and her gaze falls to his chest. Her shoulders curl inwards of their own volition. “Hey, I’m kidding. It’s just a bit I do,” Jake shucks her under the chin. “Hi, nice to meet you. My name is Jake Santiago, we’ll be married two years in September.”

“Sorry,” she sighs and leans up to rest her forehead against his. “Just been stuck in my head all day.”

“I think it’s sexy that you want to do a relationship audit. Should I whip out the spreadsheet pad? Will there be a physical evaluation of my assets?”

Amy laughs, “Oh definitely. I plan on being _very_ thorough.”

“Santiago-style. I love it.” 

“I love you,” she says with a bittersweet note to her voice.

“I bet I love you more.” 

“False. But still, I don’t that’s something that I want to gamble on.”

Amy presses her lips against his and holds him tight. She slings her leg over his waist and rolls them over so that she’s on top, gently massaging his chest. “I love you Jake.”

“I love you too, Ames,” and he looks at her with wonderment and pride, the same way he has every day they’ve been together. It’s an expression that spreads warmth from her fingers to her toes and the thought of Jake with another woman flies out of her head. You can’t fake love like that. “You make me happier than I ever thought I could be. For the record.”

“For the record: same.”

It’s an hour and a half before Amy is asleep beside him, breathing evenly with her hands curled under her chin. Very carefully, Jake gets out of bed and sneaks out the bedroom floor and tiptoes into the living room where he left his satchel. He takes out his phone and earbuds then tiptoes back. He very carefully lower himself into bed and curls back up with his wife, who hasn’t budged an inch.

 _“Te equivocas de medio a medio_ , you are completely wrong. _”_

 

He silently mouths along.

 

“ _Claro hombre, eso es de cajón,_ of course, that is obvious.”

 

* * *

 

The lease was under the name Marcia Rodgriguez, a 63-year-old mexican woman. It took some doing, but Rosa eventually found an ad that Marcia placed. She tutors Spanish as a second language.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Jake is having trouble keeping it together. He’s been planning it for months. On their anniversary he’ll take her to the place where she proposed, get down on one knee and propose to her again in Spanish. Small consolation for her beating him to the punch in the first place but whatever. He knows it’ll make her happy. It’s the gift to trump all gifts, even those of the Santiago variety.

He would deny this, but he full on _gushes_ to Boyle about it.

 Who in turn, flings proportionate reaction to the wind and lifts Jake in the air, spinning him around. This is when Rosa walks into the bullpen. She turns around and walks right back out. Boyle, embarrassed, sets him down with a sheepish smile. A long pause then-

“Could you do that again? I felt like an eagle. It was magical.”

 

* * *

 

Amy is quickly losing patience with her mother. She holds her phone away from her for a moment so she can take a deep breath.

"Mama, es mi hermano. Sé que es un idiota, pero ¿qué es lo que quieres que haga?” _Mama, he’s my brother. I know he’s an idiot, but what do you want me to do about it?_

"Él y Mia lo resolverán solos, yo- no Mamá, sí, ¡escúchame! El domingo no puedo. Si pudiera tomarme el día libre lo haría-" _He and Mia will work it out on their own, I- no Mama, yes, listen! Sunday doesn’t work. If I could get the day off I would-_

She says it all in a very normal voice. If he still couldn’t speak Spanish he would never know anything was wrong. Amy does that sometimes.  Growing up in a full house meant keeping problems to yourself. It’s something they work on, but this is a family thing, and despite being a part of it, he doubts she’ll bring it up with him. Or ask for a day off for herself. 

When Amy’s in the bathroom he phones the Sarge. “Hey, could you put me on the schedule this Sunday instead of Amy? ...Yeah, I know, but I used to do doubles all the time... Once won’t hurt.”

 

* * *

 

Mateo comes to visit a week before their anniversary. Amy invites him back to their apartment and Jake makes himself scarce for a while. Amy and Mateo were always very close and he moved to Chicago three years ago. It was rough for her at first, he’s glad she has this time with him.

What he didn’t used to be glad about was how Mateo had this annoying habit of talking to Amy in Spanish whenever Jake was around.

Mateo had been the hardest of the Santiago siblings to win over, besides Amy herself. He was closest to Amy in age, only 10 months older. They were in the same grade through all of school. They were inseparable until being accepted into different colleges.

He doesn’t like Jake much. To this day, almost two years into his marriage, Jake still doesn’t know why. He knows it bothers Amy, but he can’t do anything about it.

Well, he couldn’t until now.

Spanish drifts from the living room into the kitchen.

“Siempre hace cosas tontas para llamar tu atención.” _He’s always doing stupid things to get your attention._ “¿No te cansas de sus estupideces?” _You never get tired of his nonsense?_

Mateo is sitting on their floral couch, across from Amy on the armchair. He’s spread as wide as he can, taking up the whole thing.

“No, me canso de él dejando su basura por todas partes. Muy doméstico. No es gran cosa.” _No, I get tired of him leaving his crap everywhere. Very domestic. No big deal._

This is the moment he chooses to walk further into the room. Alerting them to his presence. The conversation doesn’t end, the thread continued as if he were invisible. He takes a seat beside his wife on the arm of her chair and smiles benignly, feigning misunderstanding.

Mateo has no compunctions about continuing to talk about him as if he’s not there. “Todavía no lo entiendo. Él es tan... Extrovertido y tú eres tan... Reservada.” _Still don’t get it. He’s so… out there and you’re so… reserved._

Jake is sort of offended on Amy’s behalf. She glances at him with a furrowed brow, so that even if he didn't understand what was being said, he’d know it was about him. He shrugs.

“Me gusta que sea tan abierto, me hace mejor que él me ayude a relajarme. Él me hace ser mejor.” _I kind of like that he’s so open, it makes me better that he helps me loosen up._ He _makes me better._  

Jake has to fight down a blush.

“Estás bien como estás.” Y _ou’re fine as you are._

For the first time in the conversation, he concurs with Mateo.

“Sí, nunca se lo diría, pero cada vez que hace que nos desviemos, es siempre lo mejor. Probablemente la única aventura que he tenido en mi vida." _Yeah, but I would never tell him so, but whenever he gets us sidetracked, it’s always the best. Probably the only adventure of my life._ “Pero si se lo dices te mato.” _But if you tell him though, I’ll kill you._  

Jake is suddenly feeling overwhelmed. It’s not that Amy doesn’t say nice things to him, it’s just different when it’s not said for his benefit. In this moment (in all moments) he’s so glad that she chose him, so thankful that she’s in his life. He tries not to blush and fails, but that’s okay. Amy takes his hand and squeezes it.

“So. Who’s ready for food?” he interrupts.

 

* * *

 

Later, Amy comes out of the shower to find him organizing the previously ordered mess in which he lives his life. She stands in the doorway of the bedroom, clutching her towel to her chest, just watching. 

He looks up from the sock drawer, feeling sheepish. The clean laundry had been piled in the corner of the room for three days. What he finds it not a teasing wife but a woman staring into the depths of his soul with dark eyes trained on his hands. Hands which he prides himself on because of their _dexterity._ Her plump lips part in an o and she blinks slowly. He can see a pink tongue running over white teeth and is struck dumb by it.

“I-I- uh, I’m organizing them by dressiness and color.”

Amy’s towel drops to the floor and she’s on him in an instant. Tackling him down onto the bed. “That is so hot.”

“Are you gonna just leave your towel on the floor?”

“Oh my _god_.”

  


* * *

 

“I have acquired a superpower,” says Jake to Charles in the breakroom. “She talks about her problems, I fix them, awesome sex. It’s a win win all around!” 

“I dunno Jakey, this seems like a bit of an invasion of her privacy.”

“She’s talking right in front of me. And did I mention how good this sex was because-??”

“So basically you’re trying to justify lying to her.” Jake jumps three feet in the air. “Also, congratulations, it took you 10 years to finally learn the language your wife speech. Good going, Jake.”

“When did you come in here?” he shouts at Rosa. “It’s not lying. I’m using my powers for good. She never would have told me her brother was having marital problems and she never would have asked Holt for the day off to be with her family. Plus, this morning she was on her phone with her mom and said ‘Me gustaría que no oliera a huevos después de perseguir delincuentes’ which means I wish he didnt smell like eggs after we chased perps. So I put on deodorant.”

“...” Rosa appears unimpressed.

“Come on, I’m telling her soon. Anniversary surprise!”

“Tell her now.”

“No.”

“Tell her.”

“You can’t make me!”

She shoots him a look.

“Okay, maybe you can. But please don’t.”

The death glare she shoots him as she leaves the room makes him question whether she will honor his request.

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t take long. He’s sitting with Amy, picking at her Pho when Rosa joins them. “Tu esposo es tonto y cree que eres una maniática controladora.”  _Your husband is an idiot and thinks you're a control freak._

“I am not! And that’s not even true!”

 “How did you understand that?”

“Yes Jake,” says Rosa pleasantly. “Is it because you are a super genius and therefore comprehend all languages?”

Amy stares at her husband with suspicious eyes, “No, that’s not it.”

 

* * *

 

Amy doesn’t speak to him the rest of the day. They sit across from each other in uncomfortable silence where she works and pretends not to feel his stare searing into her face.

He knows he’s in big trouble.

At five o’clock on the dot he gets up from his desk, yanks Amy from her seat and drags her into the evidence lockup shouting, “We’re off the clock dweebs!” over his shoulder. 

In the space where they kissed properly as themselves for the first time, where they got together, where they said goodbye before she went undercover, where they killed a man with their hot sexy makeout skills, Jake takes his wife’s hands and drops to one knee. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“¿Quieres casarte conmigo...de nuevo?” _Will you marry me...again?_ then he laughs and looks around the room. “Debes decir que sí.” _You have to say yes._

"Of course!" she flings her arms around him and presses her face into his chest. "I though you were cheating on me, you asshole!"

"Wait _what_?!"

“Nothing, never mind. Te amo, cariño,” _I love you Sweetheart,_ Amy replies, a little tearfully.

“Yooooo I’d totally forgotten about that. This opens up a whole new arena of obnoxiously cute nicknames, sugarbutt! Or should I say _culata de azúcar?_ Doesn’t roll off the tongue the same.”


End file.
